Chapter 7: A FATHER’S WORST BETRAYAL

The next morning, my father called.

I was sitting at Rosa’s kitchen table when Dante placed the phone in front of me.

“Your choice,” he said.

I stared at the screen.

ANTHONY RUSSO.

For seven months, I had imagined what I would say if I ever heard his voice again.

I had imagined screaming.

Crying.

Demanding an apology.

But when I finally answered, my voice was calm.

“Hello, Dad.”

Silence.

Then a sharp breath.

“Elena?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God. Where are you?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Come home immediately.”

There it was.

Not Are you all right?

Not I’ve missed you.

Just another order.

“No.”

His voice hardened.

“Don’t start this again.”

“I know about Michael.”

The silence that followed was different.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

“What are you talking about?”

“I found his recording.”

I heard something crash.

Then my father whispered:

“Where did you get that?”

“Michael left it for me.”

“Elena, listen carefully. You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”

“Then explain it.”

“Marcus is a dangerous man.”

I laughed bitterly.

“You knew that when you tried to make me marry him.”

“I was protecting this family!”

“From what?”

He didn’t answer.

I leaned forward.

“Did you know Marcus was responsible for Michael’s death?”

My father’s breathing changed.

“Dad?”

His voice broke.

“I never wanted your brother hurt.”

The words struck harder than any confession.

I closed my eyes.

“You knew.”

“Elena—”

“You knew, and you still tried to marry me to the man who killed him?”

“I thought I could keep you safe.”

“By giving me to him?”

My father began crying.

I had never heard him cry.

Not even at Michael’s funeral.

“Marcus had documents. Evidence. He could destroy everything I’d built.”

I stared at the phone.

“So you chose your money over your daughter.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Was Michael’s death fair?”

He went silent.

I waited.

Then I asked the question that had haunted me for three years.

“Did you help Marcus kill him?”

“No!”

The answer came immediately.

“I swear to God, Elena. I didn’t know what Marcus planned.”

“But you helped cover it up.”

Another silence.

Then, barely audible:

“Yes.”

I pressed my hand against my mouth.

My father continued.

“I paid someone to change the accident report. Marcus told me it was the only way to protect you.”

My heart shattered.

For years, I had thought my father was cold.

Controlling.

Selfish.

I had never imagined he was capable of something this terrible.

“Elena, please. Come home. We can fix this.”

“No, Dad.”

“He’s going to come after you.”

“Then I’ll face him.”

“You don’t know what he’ll do.”

I looked across the kitchen.

Dante stood near the window, giving me privacy while remaining close enough to help.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel alone.

“I know what Marcus is capable of,” I told my father. “And I know what you’re capable of, too.”

“Elena—”

“Goodbye, Dad.”

I ended the call.

Then I cried.

Not because I wanted to return.

Because the father I had spent my whole life trying to please had finally become someone I could no longer recognize.

Dante sat beside me.

He didn’t touch me.

Didn’t offer empty promises.

He simply waited.

After several minutes, I whispered:

“What happens now?”

“We take the evidence to federal investigators.”

“Will my father go to prison?”

“Possibly.”

I wiped my eyes.

“And Marcus?”

Dante’s expression turned cold.

“If the evidence holds, he’ll finally face what he’s done.”

I looked at him.

“What about you?”

He hesitated.

“What about me?”

“You’re involved in this world. What happens when they start asking questions about your businesses?”

Dante looked down.

Then he said something I hadn’t expected.

“Maybe it’s time I answered them.”